Page 26 of An Eye for an Eye

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Page 26 of An Eye for an Eye

‘When you next come to Ireland, Hani, I’ll have to introduce you to an old friend of mine, Mr Jameson, who sadly couldn’t get a visa.’

‘Fear not,’ said Khalil, ‘he has several relations over here who can be found in a club I only take special friends to, but not before the sun has set. After dinner, perhaps …’

‘You’re a man after my own heart,’ said Ross, raising his glass – another bonus point for the whizz kid at the Foreign Office. ‘Are you currently involved in any other deals?’ Ross asked casually.

‘You’ve probably heard about a major arms deal that’s due to be signed fairly shortly.’

‘Who hasn’t?’ said Ross, tapping the newspaper in front of him. ‘Three billion is involved, if you’re to believe theWall Street Journal.’

‘Not to mention an agent’s fee of fifteen per cent,’ said Khalil. ‘So you got off lightly.’

A piece of information Mr Trevelyan would be interested to hear about.

‘But theJournalsuggests the deal hasn’t yet been signed.’

‘All but,’ said Khalil, clearly enjoying himself.

‘Congratulations,’ said Ross.

Both men raised their glasses of water.

•••

Following a lengthy dinner and several glasses of sparkling water, they left the hotel to find a silver-grey Phantom awaiting them, driver in full livery. In Riyadh, only foreigners give a Rolls-Royce a second look.

‘I’m parched,’ said Ross as they climbed in the back.

‘Fear not,’ said Khalil, ‘your friend Jameson is nearby.’

‘How is that possible?’ asked Ross innocently as the car moved off, ‘remembering how strictly Sharia customs are observed and, indeed, that breaking the laws on alcohol is a punishable offence, that would end you up in jail.’

‘A gated compound has been built on the outskirts of the city to cater for foreigners’ needs. It’s treated like an embassy, so you wouldn’t even know you were in Saudi.’

‘So, none of the locals will be joining us tonight?’

‘Several of them – not that you’d notice, because they will be wearing suits tailored in Savile Row with shirts from Jermyn Street, to make sure no one can identify which country they come from.’

‘It’s good of you to take pity on me,’ said Ross.

‘It’s all part of the service, my friend,’ said Khalil as the car came to a halt in front of a barrier, which was immediately raised after one look in the back.

Khalil accompanied his guest into the mansion, and it quickly became clear he was a favoured customer, as every member of staff bowed low as he passed and greeted him with ‘Good evening, sir.’

Ross followed Khalil into a spacious lounge where he headed straight for the bar and two empty stools that were clearly reserved for him. He didn’t have to order a drink, as the barman began to pour a dark liquid from an unlabelled bottle that, from its shape, could only have been Vat 69.

Khalil slipped the barman a hundred-dollar bill as Ross tookhis place on the vacant stool. He only took a sip of his drink, as he needed to remain sober, even if later he would appear to be the clichéd drunken Irishman; a role he’d performed so many times in the past that he wouldn’t need to rehearse.

Ross began to scan the room, which was decorated with European paintings, stylish furniture and beautiful women. While Khalil continued to boast about his latest enterprises, Ross gave the impression of listening intently, while his eyes slowly circled the room for a second time. He first checked every one of the girls: all foreign, stylish and stunning. Several of them were entertaining potential customers, while the others smiled at every man who entered the room. But the one person Ross was looking for was nowhere to be seen.

Ross’s eyes settled on a man seated at the far end of the bar and noticed he was the only person drinking water. When they’d first entered the club, he’d acknowledged Khalil with a slight nod, confirming he was on the payroll.

During the next hour, Ross didn’t interrupt Khalil’s monologue, when he learnt about a new luxury five-star hotel, a state-of-the-art shopping mall, and the latest six-lane highway that had all been given the green light; for all of which the Lebanese fixer claimed he was representing the relevant ‘Minister’.

Although the whisky bottle was now half-empty, Ross was only on his second glass, and beginning to fear it was going to be a wasted evening.

He continued to sip his whisky as different girls disappeared upstairs, accompanied by different men, only to reappear an hour later in search of new punters.

Ross kept up a running commentary about the under-the-table deals he was involved in back home and what his new friend Hani could expect in return should he ever visit Dublin.He could see Hani was warming to the idea. Fifteen per cent was regularly mentioned.




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